Kiss Me to Safe
by FanPanda13
Summary: My version of a one-shot alternative Zutarian ending to ATLA.
1. Chapter 1

**Author Notes/Disclaimer:**

I love reading a good, alternative Zutarian ending, and there are a few up right now. Yay! My favorite was actually written long ago. It's a story called Lightning Shocks the Heart, by drunkzutarafeels. Honestly, it's beautiful. Go read it. It's posted on this website.

I've been itching to try my hand at doing something similar, so here's my version. Of course, ATLA is not mine. I'm only ever borrowing.

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><p>After everything - after Azula is restrained and taken away - after someone from the palace comes out and helps Katara bind Zuko's wound - after one of the sages asks Zuko when the coronation will take place - after Zuko tells everyone to go home to rest and be with their families until morning - after he leads her through the long empty hallways of the palace, down dark corridors and through fire-lit chambers - they end up in Zuko's old room. As soon as they are there, he closes the heavy doors behind them, sliding three deadbolts into place. Katara seals the doors off with frozen water. Finally, they both feel they have locked the rest of the world out. Zuko leans heavily against the door.<p>

Katara looks around. Now that they are here, she thinks perhaps she made a mistake. She stands awkwardly looking at the bed in the center of the room. It is huge. She is exhausted. It wouldn't be right for her to stay. She doesn't want to leave.

She doesn't want to be alone.

He comes to stand next to to her.

"I know what this looks like," he says. "And this is probably selfish of me to ask. But we both need rest, and I'm not going to be able to sleep if I don't know you're somewhere safe. It's a big bed. We can each take a side."

She glances at him. He is staring at the ground by his feet. She can't tell if he's nervous or numb or some combination of the two.

"Please Katara," he says, not looking up. "I don't wanna be alone."

His voice wouldn't have needed to be so heartbreakingly pitiful. She was already there anyway. But she doesn't say that to him. She answers by climbing into his bed. She thinks she hears him sigh in relief before she feels him climb into bed on the other side. She shuts her eyes.

"Thanks Katara," she hears him say.

"I didn't want to be alone either," she says. "Thanks for asking me to stay."

There is silence then. It is a loud silence. She can hear her own heartbeat in her ear and her breath, still quickened from the high tension of the day. For as tired as she is, she knows she isn't going to fall to sleep. Scenes from their battle with Azula are still running through her mind. The lightning flash. The certainty of her own death. Zuko throwing himself in front of her. Her running forward. Not being able to get to him.

The certainty that he was going to die.

_Not being able to get to him._

She shudders thinking about it. The loud silence is mutual. She can hear him too. His breath. It should make her feel better to hear it. That is, after all, why she needs to be here. She needs to know he is safe too. Safe and breathing and alive. But the lightning keeps flashing behind her eyes.

She feels tears on her face. She hadn't even realized she was crying.

She hears ragged breath from the other side of the bed. She turns onto her side so she can see him. She isn't the only one fighting tears. He sees her look. He turns onto his side and smiles half-heartedly at her, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

Neither of them can control the outflow of emotion. It only takes a few seconds for the bed to become smaller. It's shared - this need to be safe together. To cry together. She tucks her head into the hollow of his shoulder. He curls his arm around her back and rests his cheek in her hair. She sets her free hand, the one that isn't folded under her side, on his chest lightly. On the place where the lightning struck. He sets his free hand, the one that isn't curved around her body, on top of her hand.

They are both still crying. They are shaking and sniffling and shuddering together. She thinks maybe they will cry themselves to sleep, but whenever he stills, she is still crying. When she stops, he starts up again.

And then she feels his lips in her hair.

It's subtle. Whispered. Barely there. Meant to soothe her or soothe him or maybe to soothe both of them at once. Her dad has kissed the top of her head the same way. Her brother has once or twice too. Perhaps Zuko kissed his own sister like this, once upon a time. But this doesn't feel familial to Katara. She freezes. Completely. Every voluntary bodily function she has freezes. She isn't crying. She isn't breathing. She isn't sure her heart is beating.

"I'm sorry," he says. The kisses had been warm in her hair, his breath comforting. She doesn't feel either anymore. His arm had melted around her, and now it's cold and stiff. He has frozen too.

She shouldn't let her emotions overwhelm her like this. She should know this is because they've been through something together that makes them raw and skinless in front of each other. But she will face the consequences of this when the wounds are healed and scabbed over. For now, she wants the warm, soothing comfort back. She nuzzles into his shoulder and scooches closer. Her knees brush his. He relaxes again, his arm closing tighter around her while his hand holds hers more firmly to his chest. Then she feels him crying again, and she is crying too. She buries her face into his shoulder again. He presses his lips into her hair again.

She knows this instinct. To kiss someone just to make sure they are there. To kiss someone because you are so relieved they are okay. She wanted to do the same to him, earlier, in the courtyard, when she helped him sit back up after she healed his injures. She wants to do it now. She tentatively kisses the shoulder she is pressed against. He breathes and kisses the top of her head again, twice in a row. She kisses his shoulder again. And again. Then they are both kissing each other. It's fast, frantic, needy and nervous. They're like puppies licking their owners after a long separation. These aren't kisses of desire. These kisses only say: "I'm here and you're here and I wasn't sure that's how today was going to end, so I'm kissing you because I'm so thankful we're both here."

He kisses her hairline. He kisses her forehead. He reaches up to stroke her hair and her ear and the side of her face. He kisses her temple. He kisses the hair above her ear.

She starts off kissing layers of fabric, but in desperation she kisses his collarbone and that's skin. She kisses the base of his neck. She kisses up his neck.

"I thought..." he begins, but he cannot complete the sentence. He shudders again instead.

"Me too," she says.

He lets go of her hand - the one that is resting on his wounded chest - and takes her waist instead. He pulls her even closer, trapping her hand between their bodies. She lets him. She feels the pulse in his neck below her lips. It reminds her again. He could have died. He almost died. She kisses harder, as if somehow this will connect her to him in a permanent way that will always keep him safe.

He takes a sharp breath in and stops moving. Stops kissing.

She opens her eyes, stunned. This just became something else. She accidentally turned it into something else. Deep, shameful regret washes over her.

"I'm sorry," she says. She has stopped kissing as well, and now she is waiting for him to push her away. She looks up and he is looking down at her, and the look he's giving her is one she never expected to see on his face. He takes her hand - the one trapped between their bodies - and weaves his fingers through hers.

"I'm not," he says.

Their lips are close. So close she can feel his breath warm on her skin. He leans in and she thinks he is going to kiss her mouth but at the last moment he swerves away. Instead, he kisses down from her ear along her jaw. Kisses back up again. Kisses her temple. Kisses all the way up her hairline and then rubs his nose softly against hers. She is not crying anymore. Neither is he. But she is quivering and so is he when his mouth grazes her cheek, and then more so when the corner of his lips touch the corner of hers.

"Zuko," she whispers.

"Katara," he whispers back.

But they are communicating better without talking tonight, and she doesn't know what else to say. She only knows that what she wants right now is to feel his lips on her own. That's what she needs. To know he's there. To know he's safe. And then it happens. His lips meet hers. The kiss is slow, soft, sure and steady. They both take time to breathe after. Then it happens again, and soon her legs are tangled with his and they're holding each other in their arms and the gasping, shuddering whimpering noises are of pleasure and desire and they make her feel alive. Very very alive.

They don't stop until she knows that if they keep going, she'll cross lines she isn't ready to cross. It seems as though it's mutual, too, though, because they pull away at the same time, rolling over onto their backs. He grabs her hand. She closes her fingers tightly around his.

"I thought you had a girlfriend," she says, the thought coming out before she can stop it.

"I couldn't drag her into all this," he says.

"You didn't want to see her get hurt," she says. "But you asked me to come with you."

"You're a much stronger person," he says.

"Do you still love her?" she asks.

"Not like I love you," he says.

She gasps while he smiles wistfully and looks sideways at her.

"Not that it matters," he says. "Since you have Aang."

"I've never kissed Aang like that," she says.

"He's the real hero," he says. "He's a much better person than I am."

"You're a much better kisser," she teases. "And I'm not a reward that goes to the guy who can beat the biggest villain."

"But don't you love him?" he asks.

"Yes," she says. "But not like I love you."

The bed is huge. They trade soft kisses until they fall asleep wrapped in each other's embrace in the middle.

And they are finally safe.

The End.

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><p>EPILOGUE: AND THEY ARE DYNAMIC, INTERESTING CHARACTERS WHO ARE NOT OBLIGATED TO STAY FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIVES WITH THE KIDS WHO HAD CRUSHES ON THEM AT AGE 12. SO THEY GET A HAPPY ENDING, WITH EACH OTHER, DAMN IT.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:**

I was planning to keep this a one-shot, but I kept wondering what Zuko's perspective would have been and then I had to write it to get it out of my head. (Also, I read sadladybug's Clothe Me in Seasons, Dress Me in Snow and it's sent me into a beautiful, tragic depression. You should go read her story. Then when you're sufficiently impressed and also sufficiently depressed, you should come back and read this. I'll do my best to cheer you up.)

ATLA — not mine. Just borrowing.

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><p>It doesn't occur to Zuko until he is lying on the ground, electric shock reverberating through his body, that he loves her. It becomes painfully obvious to him then, as the mistakes he made flash through his mind. He was supposed to direct the lightning back at Azula. To stop her. Katara was supposed to run away. To leave him and go.<p>

Azula didn't stop.

Katara didn't go.

Now he can't do a thing about it. He watches Katara dodge Azula's strikes. He is powerless while his sister, drunk on her own insanity, tries to kill a girl he would - DID - take a lightning bolt for. He forgets he's dying while Katara fights. His heart has no time to stop beating. It is too busy trying to cram itself up his throat.

Azula is clever, ruthless and willing to do anything to secure her crown. She was born lucky, and she is trying to kill Katara. Zuko is terrified.

He should know better.

Katara is clever, determined and capable of anything she sets her mind to. She is taking on Azula, and she was born luckier.

Everything is a blur after Katara runs to him, though there are brief bursts of clarity that interrupt the haze. He is acutely aware of the pain seeping up and out of his body through her gentle hands and of her smile when she knows he'll be okay. She's never smiled like that at him before. He thinks the effect on him is stronger than the effect of the comet itself.

He sees Azula writhe in hysteria. Her despair when she catches his eye is dark and lonely. She knows she's lost, but she can't come to grips with what she's lost. He's never seen Azula so broken. He doesn't hear the words that come out of his mouth ordering the guards to take her to a prison cell.

The servants are shy and eager to prove their new loyalty. Katara regards them suspiciously, allowing only minimal assistance from those who offer to help bind his wound. Word comes by messenger hawk that the Avatar won, and they read it together, each holding an edge of the victorious note. She turns her body into his while relief floods her eyes. He hugs her, ignoring the uncomfortable looks of the fire sages approaching. When one of the sages calls him "Lord Zuko," she bows her head and begins to back away, but he latches on, closing his hand around hers and pulling their hands together behind their backs. She's been at his side this whole time. He's not letting her go now.

A new reign can begin tomorrow. Tonight he needs rest. He orders the sages and the servants to go to their families. The observers disperse. He has no family to go to. His family - the royal family - is shattered and scattered across the battlefield they created. He won't have to explain to Katara. She already understands better than she should. He takes her into the palace with him. He has to remind himself that this empty place is his home.

He leads her to the room that was his. He's not surprised to learn that no one ever cleaned it out. It's exactly as it was the day he left. Katara trusts him enough not to question him. She feels enough of what he feels that even after he turns all three locks, she still seals the door to the room shut behind them with frozen water. He leans against the door, while she turns and looks around.

For the first time in hours, the hazy film of shock begins to lift. Time starts moving forward at a normal pace. He notices the way her shoulders fall while she takes what is probably the first deep breath she's managed since they arrived here on Appa. He sees her put her hand on her arm. It makes perfect sense that this is when he realizes he's just locked her into his bedroom with him. He swallows hard.

He has foolish thoughts. She may be with him now, but they will not be alone tomorrow. There are other places to sleep than the bed. There is a couch and a chair. There is a threadbare rug on the floor. There is a tub in the adjoining bathroom. The choices are laughable. She hasn't been out of arm's reach since the battle ended. Zuko makes a snap decision. Tomorrow night, she can make her choice. Tonight, he will beg her to stay close.

She's standing in the middle of the room. He walks to her side, but he can't look at her as he begins to plead his case. He doesn't really even know what he's saying. Words like "rest" and "safe" stand out. He pauses after he tells her they can each take a side of the bed.

"Please Katara," he says, in a voice he doesn't even recognize. "I don't wanna be alone."

She pads over to his bed and climbs into it without discussion. Relief washes over him like a wave. He sighs so deep he's embarrassed by it. He gets into the bed on the other side, thanking every power that is or ever was for the girl lying a few feet away from him. She had every reason to hate him, but she decided to trust him and see good in him. She should have run away, but she ran toward him instead. He owes her his life, his crown and his country, but there is so much more she makes him grateful for. He wants to express some of his gratitude, but he can't get the words out right. He just says: "thanks Katara."

In return, she thanks him for asking her to stay. It doesn't occur to Zuko until right then, as she lies facing away from him, that she might need to be with him tonight as much as he needs to be with her. "I didn't want to be alone either," she tells him. It unravels him. There were too many close calls today.

He tries to keep quiet when tears begin to rack him, but he hears soft sobs coming from the other side of the bed. He is lying on his back and he sees when she turns onto her side to face him. He turns to face her too. There's no sense trying to hide. He thinks looking at her that it is complete bunk to say there is anything opposite about him and Katara at all. They are cut from exactly the same cloth, though she wears it better than he does. He wipes his eyes and can't help but smile at her.

Her gaze melts and she doesn't have to say anything for him to know instinctively to move to the middle of the bed. She moves so fast that he blinks and almost misses it. Instead, he simply feels her head burrowing into his shoulder. He rests his face in her hair. No, this isn't something he ever thought would happen based on those early fights, during which he underestimated her strength. It's strange, though, how that shared history somehow makes him safe now. They've been through a lot together, and seeing her body move has given him an awareness of it that somehow makes it easier to curve his arm around her back.

There is still enough space between them for modesty, but she puts her hand carefully on his chest, over the wound, and he holds it there like he would hold her whole body to him if he could. Then she starts sobbing again and it sends a pang through his heart. He didn't know that if he got hurt, it would hurt her too, but the wet tears soaking through his robes say otherwise. He didn't know how impossible it would feel to see her come close to death, but the ache in his body when he thinks about it says otherwise. It hurts to know he loves her so much. It hurts to know she cares about him. He's crying again too. They're quite the pair.

He's already vulnerable to her, but with every heaving breath another barrier falls. How will he let her go after this? He is breathing her in. She smells like the ocean and like something floral that he can't name. He'd like the right to learn. He'd like to keep her long enough to find out. His lips touch her hair lightly in a kiss he doesn't intentionally give. Not that he doesn't give it with all his heart. Just that it is beyond his control to stop himself from giving it.

She stills. He made another mistake.

"I'm sorry," he says, but he's more than sorry. He's paralyzed by the fear that he's just done something that will frighten her away. He wants to say he didn't mean anything by it, but that would be a lie. He wants to say there are two sides of the bed, and that she can go to her side, but please, Katara, please just stay. Just tonight. Just long enough for me to know you are safe. For it to sink in that we aren't in danger anymore.

_She still doesn't leave him._ She inches closer instead. He welcomes it, closing his arm tighter around her, holding her hand closer to his chest. His body yearns to close in on her completely. His heart spins like a coin on its edge. He can't believe she is here. He wasn't sure this is how the day would end. He came so close to losing her forever. He made so many mistakes. She's here anyway. He starts crying again and soon she is crying with him again. So many tears. He kisses her hair just to prove to himself that she's there. She is.

And then she kisses him too. He feels her lips press delicately against his shoulder. He responds by kissing the top of her head, twice in a row. Once for "thank you" and once for "I love you." She kisses his shoulder again, twice in a row. The way she does it makes him feel like she's saying something similar to what he's saying. Then they are taking turns with these fast, funny, light kisses that seem to let them tell each other how afraid they were before and how relieved they are to be here now and how much the other means to them.

He's kissing what he can reach. The top of her head, her hair, her forehead, her temple. She's kissing his shoulder and his collarbone, and soon she's kissing his neck. The only other person who's ever kissed his neck is Mai, and the thought of his ex-girlfriend makes him slightly uncomfortable. Mai and Katara both faced down Azula for him, but he never would have brought Mai into this mess in the first place and he didn't think twice about leaving her behind at the Boiling Rock. What's wrong with him that he was willing to bring Katara here and that he can't stand now the thought of leaving her anywhere? Was he really so naive about his feelings for Mai? He strokes Katara's hair and her ear and the side of her face and he knows he loves this girl in a way he's never loved anyone else before.

This girl who's kissing his neck.

He doesn't get the sense that she's trying to go anywhere else with this, but does she realize she's kissing his neck? Has she ever kissed Aang this way? He can't even imagine that.

"I thought…" he begins, but he thinks twice about ruining the moment, shuddering at the thought of her going anywhere.

"Me too," she says, and he isn't sure what she means by that, but he knows he needs her closer. He takes her waist and pulls her to him. If her arm weren't trapped between their bodies, she'd be flush against him now. It was aggressive, and he aggressively continues to tell her with those light kisses how very much he needs her to be safe with him tonight.

He thinks maybe she'll stop kissing soon - but he has to stop underestimating her. She increases the pressure of her lips, kissing harder than before. He thinks she's telling him she needs him here safe with her tonight, just as much as he needs her, but the sensation she sends through his body feels anything but safe. It's more like the lightning Azula shot through him earlier today. A physical need awakens inside him and he takes in a quick draw of air, stopping in surprise. A beautiful girl with a stronger heart than anyone he's ever met is lying with him in his bed, indulging his need to cuddle while she trails kisses up his neck. Her lips just found the pulse in his throat. She told him she would end him if he ever tried to hurt Aang again. Is she making good on that promise now? He would swear he didn't do anything to Aang, but he can't remember much of anything right this minute, and…

Did she just say she was sorry?

He almost laughs. In an instant, his mood has darkened with desire. "I'm not," he says, looking down at her, and when she looks up, he knows. He knows from the faint blush in her cheeks. He knows from the slight part in her lips. He knows from the way her eyes search his. Her heart is open to him. He takes that hand that's been trapped between their bodies and entwines their fingers. She holds on tight. He looks at her lips, so close to his, and Agni he wants to kiss her. He leans in, passing her lips to create a path from her ear to her jaw and then back again all the way up her hairline. He rubs his nose softly with hers in an attempt to convey the tenderness he's feeling, and she's quivering with him by the time he kisses her cheek, and then more when he kisses the dimple by her lips.

It's the most thrilling thing he's ever experienced in his life.

"Zuko," she whispers.

"Katara," he whispers back, and then, because he doesn't have anything else to say, he kisses her, and _spirits_, she kisses back. Then again, and again. Their mouths are warm and melting together. They are maintaining a steady pressure against each other's bodies. Zuko knows this could all be a response to their trumped up emotions, but he imagines this is how kissing Katara would always feel. They would kiss like this because they hadn't seen each other in a few hours, or because it was raining. Or maybe just because it was Tuesday.

The heat inside him is rising, and it doesn't go down when she lets him kiss from _her_ neck to her collarbone. It goes up too much when she makes a pleased little noise in response to his thumb brushing lightly against the side of her breast. Her mouth meets his again. The kiss is deep. He unintentionally rolls his hips toward hers. She responds with her body and with a sound that makes his eyes open and widen. They are cut from the same cloth. Screw opposites. They're exactly alike. And because of that he knows _he absolutely has to stop right this second_. He gasps and breaks away, breathing heavily. She turns away from him at the same time. He grabs her hand as soon as he loses her body. He needs that connection.

That connection that isn't his.

He's going to say something. How is he going to say it? He has to say it. Something has to be said. She says it first:

"I thought you had a girlfriend."

She's worried he has a girlfriend.

"I couldn't drag her into all this," he starts to explain, but it's a little difficult because he doesn't exactly want to mention that his last conversation with Mai ended with him locking her into a prison cell, after which she saved his ass from Azula.

"You didn't want to see her get hurt," Katara says. "But you asked me to come with you."

She's intuitive, but she's wrong about something. He didn't ask Katara to come because he wasn't afraid of her getting hurt. "You're a much stronger person," he says. And you were never easy, he doesn't say. And you wouldn't have let me come alone anyway, he doesn't say. And I needed you more than I needed Mai, he doesn't say.

"Do you still love her?" she asks, and he knows he shouldn't be truthful with his answer. The truth is too forward. At the same time, it doesn't seem fair, after all they've been through together, to be anything less than truthful with Katara.

"Not like I love you," he says. He smiles because it's the truth and looks sideways at her because he might as well find out what she thinks. He's taken her by surprise. She puffs out a little breath of air and her mouth hangs slightly open. It's almost too much. He'll trick himself into thinking she loves him too. "Not that it matters," he continues in a feeble attempt to protect his heart. "Since you have Aang."

But her eyes just get bigger. "I've never kissed Aang like that," she says.

It's too much to believe. That she would want him instead of the Avatar. "He's the real hero," Zuko protests. He should protest more strongly, but he's thinking maybe they could kiss like that because it's Wednesday too. And Thursday. "He's a much better person than I am."

"You're a much better kisser," she teases. "And I'm not a reward that goes to the guy who can beat the biggest villain."

Now his mouth hangs slightly open, and his heart beats so fast he's glad she's a healer. "But don't you love him?" he asks.

"Yes," she says, and she smiles as she says it. "But not like I love you."

He will spend the rest of his life doing anything in his power to keep her by his side. He will beg her and bribe her. He will let her win every fight (if there are any fights she wouldn't have already won). He will learn to dance for her. He will laugh with her any chance he gets. And tonight he will kiss her softly until they both feel safe.

It doesn't occur to Zuko until he's drifting off to sleep that one day he's going to ask this girl to marry him. It's an after thought. She's already by his side.

The. End.

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><p><strong>Auther's Note:<strong>

I love writing Zuko in love. He's delicious, isn't he? Still, it occurred to me as I wrote this that I actually prefer an older Zutara. Funny, right? I definitely don't see Kataang happening at the end of the series. Kataang is puppy love, and Katara's too grown up for that by the finale. But I will admit that there is a part of me that can see Maiko happening, at least for a little while, because I think Zuko would have welcomed something so easy back into his overly complicated life and because I don't think Katara's quite old enough by the finale for the steamy chemistry that she has with Zuko. One day, Zuko. One day.


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